


Old Maid

by Ryuutchi



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2019-06-22 06:18:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15575628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuutchi/pseuds/Ryuutchi
Summary: Darts were a favorite game, except that Jeff was far too drunk to be allowed near sharp, pointy objects.





	Old Maid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kellygirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kellygirl/gifts).



> This story was originally archived at [Pretty Lights](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Pretty_lights), which closed for financial reasons. To preserve the archive, the archivist imported its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in May 2017.

Darts were a favorite game, except that Jeff was far too drunk to be allowed near sharp, pointy objects. There was pool, but Jared would probably fall over. They ended up scrounging up a deck of cards and playing the easiest game they could manage (because heaven knew any sort of poker was entirely out, since they were plastered and could barely read the cards.) So that left them playing a game that didn't particularly require any sort of mental acuity-- that is, Old Maid. Which was made all the more complicated by the fact that they were so piss drunk, half the time they mistook the Queens for Jacks. By halfway through the game, the Joker had found itself on the floor under Jeff's chair. Two-thirds of the way through the game, Jared realized that they were missing several cards, and, honestly, Jeff really  _didn't_  have any fours.   
  
They never actually finished the game because Jeff got up and stumbled over to check and see if they'd actually emptied all the tequila, and while he was gone Jared went through his cards and determined that, in fact, there were no more pairs to be made. (He was wrong, in point of fact-- Jeff had the seven of diamonds to Jared's seven of clubs, but, well, drunk.) Jared abandoned the card game and hauled himself out of Jeff's industrial green plastic kitchen chair. “I can't believe you don't have any fours,” he slurred, Texan drawl pulling his words out of shape, as he stumbled over to slam his hands on the counter, one on either side of Jeff's hips.   
  
“What the hell are you talking about? Damn straight, I haven't gotten any from Ferris. Why the hell would I be banging Sam?” Jeff swore like a sailor when he was drunk. “I'm not banging anyone we're working with. Not that I wouldn't mind fucking her. She's got some amazing tits.” He found a not-entirely-empty bottle of bourbon and turned back around in Jared's arms, staring up at his coworker. “You are too goddamn tall, anyone ever tell you that?”   
  
“Yep,” Jared said and stole the bottle before Jeff could take a swig. He drank most of the remnants himself and handed the last swallow back. “I could take Sam or leave her. Redheads aren't really my thing. Now, Alona Tal, now she's one girl you could bring home to mama. She's just, you know. I can pick her up, she's so tiny.”   
  
“You can pick Jensen up too,” Jeff tried for some vague sober logic. “You're an honest-to-God Giganto-Fucking-Saur.”   
  
“I am not! And I couldn't pick Jenny up. He'd never speak to me again.” Jared was deeply concerned by this prospect and indicated it by putting on his best pouty face, lower lips peeking out and woebegone eyes shining and hopeful. Jeff didn't seem to notice.   
  
Jeff just leaned back on the counter, heedlessly knocking over amassed beer bottles with his elbow. “And that would be a damn shame. Man's got lips like sin.”   
  
“Nice metaphor.”   
  
“It's true. I mean, they're so soft and pillowy. I can just imagine fucking them.” Jeff? Didn't have much of an internal censor when he was this far gone. And Jared didn't seem to care at all, grinning like a madman at the thought.   
  
In fact, he seemed to be of the same opinion. “And Jenny's ass?  _Divine_. I think he was first in line when God was giving out asses, because there is no other way for it to be so,” Jared groped in the air, as though groping Jensen's ass, “perfect. Not that you should let him know I said that,” Jared added quickly, “He'd tell Sandy and they'd both kill me. I'd never get laid again.”   
  
“Christ,” Jeff said, picking up a bottle, and examining it for traces of alcohol-- it was empty. He dropped it back on the pile of empties they'd amassed over the past four hours. “I need to get laid bad. I haven't gotten any since... Oh god, I don't remember the last time I got some tail.”   
  
Jared leaned in with a laugh and pressed his lips to Jeff's. The kiss was not the best of Jeff's life. Hell, it probably wouldn't have even broke the top fifty if it hadn't been true that Jeff hadn't gotten any in at least a year and a half. Jared smelled like cheap tequila and used way too much tongue. After a moment or so of Jeff making half-hearted protests and Jared lapping at his mouth like a cheerful puppy, they finally parted. Jared beamed like a doofus, far too proud of himself for what he'd just been doing. “There. Now you've gotten some.”   
  
“Fucking cock-tease,” Jeff said.


End file.
